fell from womb to tub
a scrub-a-dub-dubwhen, between a
rave and a grave,
this life of strife
this divine line
drawn in the sand
by an unseen hand
an offered wander
to here or off yonder
something to ponder
is it just to launder
everything you squander
in those prior days
beyond the dire haze
you came in green and wet
not quite knowing yet
a lingering unpaid debt
but with time as soap
a bit of patience to cope
there in lies the hope
on an outstretched rope
under a bright and sunny sky
you are hung out to dry
and discover the reason why
in this life we must die
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